A Risk Worth Taking
by Miss Baby
Summary: When dark forces conspire against the small kingdom of Forks, a brave knight and a young princess risk their lives to protect the people from tyranny. A short story based on the fairytale of Snow White, written for the FGB.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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**Beta'ed by Jadsmama. **

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_**~ One ~**_

"The Lady Isabella is starting to become a threat to us."James stretched, his body worn and sated after its most recent tryst as he sat by the fire, his voice even and calm as if contemplating murder was nothing out of the ordinary. "Something has to be done about her and soon too for people are already whispering her name around the marketplace."

The words spoken by her companion left little to the imagination, not that Victoria needed any imagination to know the truths her lover just spoke. Still, as much as she wanted the Lady Isabella dead, she also knew that this matter was as precarious as they come; one that had to be dealt with quickly, cleanly and in a way that would not trace back to her. After all, the strength of her position depended on it.

"Since when do you listen to the idle gossip of townsmen?" She sneered sarcastically, trying to make light of the situation. It was not that she didn't trust James' insights, after all, they had proven most useful in the past, it was just that she didn't want to follow orders from a man who was miles beneath her in rank and station. She stretched, deliberately letting her robe fall open to reveal her pale, porcelain skin as she shifted on the bed, creating an alluring distraction of naked skin and rippled velvet for her lover as he lingered near the hearth. "What do we care about the mob?"

"Only a fool would dismiss the mob as unimportant." James muttered, wondering how a woman so grand in many aspects, could be so dense where it came to her own position and what had to be done to keep it. "Individually they may be as insignificant as they are ignorant but banded together…."

He didn't need to finish the sentence, his queen catching on quickly as her lips pursed into a dissatisfied sneer. She'd always hated being in the wrong.

To Victoria, the mob had never been something she wasted her time or thoughts on. She liked to rule them, that much was true, and most of all she liked the money and the position of power they had brought to her. But as for the rest, she figured that as long as she had the support of her vassals and enough soldiers to enforce her iron rule across the lands, she had nothing to worry about.

James, however, ventured out among the people of Forks much more than his sovereign lady and by doing so he had come to realize just how much trouble Victoria's relentless policies were slowly starting to get her into.

She was unloved by virtually everyone who wasn't directly tributary to her; the constant tax raisings and her fervent endorsement of corporal punishment to scare the people into obedience swiftly eradicating all goodwill her late husband's capable rule had carefully built.

James had watched it happen and had even quite enthusiastically contributed to it all, for up until a few months ago he had never seen any cause for worry. Yes, the people were unhappy with their ruler but what was new? As far as James knew it had always been like that and probably would be until the Day of Reckoning. No, it wasn't until, right after the Lady Isabella had turned sixteen that James had cause to be concerned.

It had been a random day at the market, one like all other tedious days he'd spent trying to keep abreast of what the people were saying, that he'd overhear two serfs discussing the potential of that little brat as an alternative to Queen Victoria's rule. The fact that, not only did their words gain much approval from those within hearing distance of their conversation but that they were audacious enough to utter them out loud in a place as public as the town market, cause a chill to settle in his bones. He knew then that something had to be done to nip this spark of public unrest in the bud before the flames would grow out of control, if they hadn't already.

"So the Lady Isabella's days are numbered." It seemed like Victoria's mind had wandered along a similar avenue, her lips pulling into a malicious smile as she contemplated the definitive removal of the girl who had long been a throne in her side. Without that little pest loitering around, her mere existence a never-ending cause for alarm, she would finally be free. No one would ever dare to challenge her once Charles' annoying little offspring would be cold in her grave.

"I'll take care of it." James smiled, his chest puffing out with pride as he started to imagine all the possible ways he could get rid of the little female nuisance that threatened his position of power. "It would be my pleasure to rid you of that little pest."

"No," Victoria spoke, her voice decisive enough to surprise her lover. "It cannot be you. The risk of detection is too great. It has to be another." She rubbed her chin, the movement causing her robe to fall even further away, revealing the dark pink of her nipples as the puckered to the chill in the September air. "Someone we can trust."

James was temporarily distracted, his eyes glued to the place his lips had just a moment ago worshipped with an ardent desire, until his queens sharp voice pulled him out of the lustful haze his mind had gotten lost in. "Attention," she barked, withdrawing her body from sigh as she pulled her robe to cover her body once again. "We cannot tarry, James. Something has to be done and it has to be done now, before that little parasite ruins us both. I cannot and will not risk my crown because of your lechery."

"Don't fret milady," James spoke, dipping into a low curtsey to hide his malevolent smirk from her sight. It was at times like those that he hated the woman almost as much as he lusted after her, his professional pride deeply wounded by her mistrust and arrogance. "My lechery has never affected my work and I endeavor to keep it that way."

Victoria had to admit he was right. For all their secret assignations, her lover had never lost sight of what mattered most: her supreme rule over Forks. However, as much as she knew she'd bruised his professional pride by hinting that their affair had clouded his judgment, she wasn't about to apologize. After all, a queen answered to God alone, not to a lowly knight.

With that thought in mind she pulled up her chin, assuming that haughty look that her people had come to know her for as she spoke, "Then pray tell me: do you know of anyone within our guard trustworthy enough to complete the task?"

"Oh, I know just the man." James' smug grin was back in place as a plan started to take shape in his head. It would be almost as good as his original plan but with the added bonus that execution of it wouldn't lead back to neither himself or Victoria.

As self-assured as James seemed to be, Victoria was a little more hesitant to put her faith in the unknown. "Can he be trusted?"

"He's as loyal a man as I ever came across," James nodded. "A true knight; one nobody would suspect of foul play should the Lady Isabella come to harm under his noble, ever watchful eye."

"I didn't know those still existed!" Victoria snickered, her long, slender fingers playing with the fur trim of her robe. "I figured they were just a silly fantasy young maidens dream up while they bed their old, lackluster husbands."

"Did _you_?" James knew that he was threading dangerous waters with his question but he couldn't stop himself.

Victoria arched her brow at her companion's audacity to question her like that, her thoughts briefly flittering to the aging king who'd long ago shared the bed she was now lying upon. "I had a better plan, as you very well know."

"So I do, my queen," James snickered, his mind filled with the violent end King Charles, the man he'd once sworn his allegiance to, had met at James' very hands. "Either way, trust isn't the issue here. We need a man who can fulfill his duty for queen and country and make it back to the castle baring some sort of evidence to the fact that he rid us of that bothersome little bitch. Afterwards….." James let his voice trail of as he shrugged, his hand almost automatically gliding over the hilt of the dagger that never left his side, not even in his queen's bed. "…accidents can happen."

"Good." Victoria leaned back, her head relaxing against the soft pillows of the bed as she smiled; a weight lifted from her shoulders. "Now do you have time for round two or-"

"Better not, milady," James interrupted her. "There are duties that need to be discharged of before tonight's banquet or things will go awry."

"We cannot have that," Victoria pouted, waving him off with a flighty gesture of her hands. "I will see you tomorrow, after it's done."

James bowed low, the look of mischief in his eyes filling Victoria with desire as he walked out of the room. If she had known her lover's thoughts were already elsewhere, she might not have looked forward to the time when they could steal a few more moments together as eagerly as she did when she called out for her maid.

To James, the servicing of his queen had become a tiresome duty of late, though not one he ever contemplated rejecting. No, as bothersome as bedding his queen sometimes was, he knew full well that she, and she alone, was the cause of his rise to fame. Having been born a lowly knight, his father a mere gentleman farmer, he had always known that if he were to advance in society, a scrupulous mind would be the last thing he needed.

And so far, his lack of morals had done him good. He might have done some things along the way that he wasn't exactly proud of, but if at the end of the day he could still call himself the captain of the armies of Forks and first knight in the queen's service, it would be worth the eternal damnation that awaited him when he changed this life for the next one. According to the church that was.

Stepping out into the courtyard he took a deep breath, his eyes briefly shooting to the lean tower at the other end of the yard, a small window at the top showing the flickering brightness of the hearth burning inside. He smiled evilly, his sword hand twitching by his side. For years now the lady who lived within that tower had been a thorn in his side, her innocent face not betraying the enormous threat she posed to the life he'd made for himself. It was a relief to know that at that time tomorrow, he would finally be rid of her.

Her name was Isabella, _princess_ Isabella, the only child of the late king and his first and much beloved wife. She had always been a favorite of the people, even though it had been years since Victoria had allowed the little bitch to wander free within the castle or show herself to the people on festive occasions, her fine, noble features reminding them of their dear, departed queen and the wave of agony that had rolled over the land of Forks when people had heard of her passing. So beloved had been the queen Renee that many people spoke evil of the haste with which their king sought another bride after his first lady had died in childbirth.

But, of course, the king, though deeply bereft, didn't have time to waste. Already at an advanced age, he'd felt the need for a male air growing more acute with every day he breathed; his need bringing him to the neighboring kingdom of Volterra where the reigning king was all too happy to depart with one of his daughters if it meant elevating her to an even more venerated position. If only Charles had known that in a matter of years his new bride would condemn him to an untimely death and rob his daughter and sole heir of her inheritance, he might not have looked forward to his wedding day with as bright an outlook as he had that fateful day. But, as always, the course of history cannot be predicted.

Fifteen years later the king had long been dead, his people almost forgetting the kind, fair ruler he was as they toiled under the tyranny of his widow. For with no mature heir to take over, Victoria had easily snatched the crown, posing as regent for the child Isabella and slowly and methodically drawing her away from sight in the hope people would forget there had ever been a more just claimant to the throne. Until now….

"Cullen, a word," James barked, the thought of the young girl locked inside the tower bringing to mind his latest assignment.

A young man rose from the group gathered around the water pump cleaning their armor, his face curious but his eyes reverently downcast as he joined his captain. His name was Edward Masen of Cullen, the second son of a wealthy but insignificant nobleman who bore the name of the small estate his family had ruled for as long as anyone could remember. Around the castle he was simply known as 'Cullen'; one of many knights quite like him who had entered the queen's service in search of a steady income and a promise of advancement. He was the man who would come to bear the burden of safeguarding his queen's reign.

In a way Edward reminded him of himself when he was younger, though their outlook on life differed like night from day. They had both been modestly born but stood out because of their bravery and their fighting skills, making them rise up through the ranks with a speed that made them both awed and envied amongst their comrades.

_Yes_, James thought, _Edward Cullen was going places_. If not for his skills then for the way Victoria's eyes seemed to be drawn more and more to the new knight's handsome features.

_All the better!_ he snickered, waiting for the young man to reach him. As long as it didn't endanger his own position, James was all for sharing the 'honor' of being his sovereign's bedfellow. For as alluring as Victoria's body might have been, the blatant disrespect she showed him whenever he dared to gain the upper hand cast an ugly light on her.

In spite of the great name he had made for himself, Cullen was still a relatively new face around the castle, having joined the queen's service only a few years ago. But in spite of his newness he had already made name for himself through his strong sword skills, knightly behavior and complete dedication to the job and his sovereign, completing many tasks others would have balked at.

It were those very traits that made him so perfect for the task; his skill and dedication making it so that James was sure he would complete the job swiftly, cleanly and meticulously while his great reputation for knighthood would give no one cause to suspect anything untoward.

As James walked away, having briefed his subordinate extensively on the task he'd been given, he was already congratulating himself on a job well done. As peeved as he still was about not being able to fulfill the task himself, he knew that in young Cullen he'd found the man most capable of doing so instead.

Little did James know that he was completely and utterly mistaken.

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_**Thoughts?**_

_**Since this story is already completely written, you will get a new chapter every day until it is complete.** _


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama. **_

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_**For some strange reason, FanFiction wouldn't let me reply to all of the reviews for the first chapter. If I couldn't thank you personally in the form of a review reply, please know that I really appreciate your words. The response to this story means the world to me. **_

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_**~ Two ~**_

Isabella sighed as she stared out of the window. The day was still young but already it was proving to be as uneventful as the day before, though maybe a little less dreary since it seemed like the autumnal storms that had been plaguing the castle for days now had finally gone, leaving a watery sun behind.

"Perhaps the queen will let you go out today." Isabella turned to the sound her maid's voice. "It's no good for a young lady such as yourself to be cooped up like this all day. There's only so much embroidery a woman can complete before she reaches her breaking point."

"That's true!" Isabella chuckled, leaving her cozy window seat to help the older woman fold some linens. "And God knows I've already reached that point days ago."

The old woman smiled, playfully pinching her young ward's cheek as she spoke. "You were never one for needlework. I fear for your future husband's wellbeing with a wife so negligent!"

"Psah!" Isabella pouted. "It's not like I'd be lazy enough to let a man go out naked. I just do not see the need to add another fancy embroidered shift to my already excessive collection. Especially not when I know full well that no one apart from you or me is ever going to see them."

The maid, a townswoman of advanced age called Angela Weber, who'd been the lady Isabella's devoted servant from early childhood, smiled sadly at her ward's melancholy outburst. "Have faith Isabella," she muttered, discarding her washing to wrap the young lady into a firm, motherly embrace. "Your stepmother might yet change her mind."

Isabella smiled at the never-ending optimism of her companion even though she did not share it. "I fear that may be wishful thinking, dear nurse. The risk of my husband staging a revolution against her is too great for Victoria to ever allow it. No…." she sighed wistfully. "I've long ago resigned myself to spinsterhood." _Or early death_, she thought, though she knew better than to upset poor, gentle hearted Angela by uttering such a thought out loud.

Angela's heart broke for her beautiful young ward. An old woman now, she had at least known true, passionate love and the heartbreak that came from losing it, before she'd entered the late king's service, looking for a reputable way to pass the time remaining to her until she could join her dear departed husband in the afterlife. It didn't sit well with her that a girl as young, vibrant and beautiful as Isabella should be cooped up and wilting away, even if there was nothing she could do to stop it.

In fact, the only thing alleviation she was able to bring to their lives was her optimism and it was to that trait that she turned that moment. "I am sure the queen will allow you to ride out today, if the weather holds."

A small smile crept onto the lady Isabella's face as she looked out at the clear blue sky, her heart leaping at the happy prospect of some fresh air and exercise. "Perhaps." She longed to go out and breathe in the crisp, spicy air of the forests surrounding the castle. For days now she'd been locked within her tower, the bad weather barring her from riding out or even taking a walk in the walled garden.

It wasn't long before the sound of heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs answered the question on whether or not there was going to be any sport that day but as the door slowly opened both ladies let out a small, surprised gasp as an unfamiliar figure emerged. Unused to the presence of nobody but themselves, the queen and that ghastly knight of hers, the ladies were startled to find a handsome, young stranger emerging from the door; Isabella blushing at the sights of the man she'd hitherto only been able to admire from above as Angela, immediately noticing the effect their visitor had on her young mistress, started to chuckle. This may have been just the change young Isabella needed to emerge from the state of melancholy she'd plunged headlong into.

For a moment Edward stood star struck, the sight of the beautiful young girl in the window seat taking him completely aback. The way the light, streaming in through the small window, illuminated her pale, perfect skin and reflected along the long, loosely braided strands of almost ebony brown hair making her seem more like an angel than the treacherous snake his queen had made her out to be.

"Yes?" Isabella's head cocked to the side, her fine, noble features enhanced as she stared at the young man inquisitively, putting aside the book she had been reading. The movement, so innocent and pure, stirred within Edward a desperate urge to claim and protect; that same feeling so oft described in courtly romances sung by minstrels at his sovereign's high table. _It was unfortunate that this very woman, this flawless, unspoiled siren, was the one he was send to kill._

It was only then that Edward remembered himself. "Good day, ladies," he finally spoke. "My name is Edward Masen of Cullen. It is my honor today to take the Lady Isabella out for her daily exercise."

"Is Lord James unwell?" Angela inquired, a horrible sense of foreboding rising in her chest.

"Not at all, mistress Weber," Edward was quick to reply. "I am happy to say that my lord is in excellent spirits. It is the queen's duty that has, regretfully, kept him from taking the princess out today."

"Hmm." Angela frowned, her wrinkled hand cupping her chin as she gazed at the young knight. She'd seen him out and about in the courtyard many a times when she set about doing her daily duties and heard his praise sung by virtually everyone she knew. Still, there was something altogether sinister about the way he was standing there, his dagger hanging low on his hip, that made her hesitate to entrust her mistress into his care.

"I've taken the liberty of having the lady's palfrey saddled," Edward tried, knowing the lady's handmaiden needed more persuading. "I could easily tell them to add a second horse for you if you feel uncomfortable letting your ward ride out without a chaperone."

"And ride out at my age?" Angela cried out. "Upon my word! I've never heard of such a thing!" It was only when she smiled that the young knight let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding; the guard that had been so dominant a feature in the old woman's eyes slowly being dropped as she fixed him with another long, hard look. "No, I think you can be trusted to bring my lady back, safe and sound."

It was with great difficulty that Edward managed to keep his countenance, the deeply rooted aversion he'd always felt against dishonesty doing him no good now. "I will do my duty, madam," he vowed, choosing the lesser of lies to reassure both the maid and her lady before he bowed and left the room in desperate need of a fresh breath of air to calm his troubled senses.

It was thus, slowly breathing in and out, that the Lady Isabella found him standing next to his horse a few moments later, his strong, lean posture and friendly, open face posing a complete opposite to the general uncouth gruffness of the man who usually accompanied her. It was with a deep blush that Isabella concluded that it was a change she found not altogether unpleasant.

Meanwhile Edward's mind was still in turmoil, his eyes following every movement as a stable boy aided the princess in getting into the saddle, his newly awakened heart already waging war with his head and unlocking thoughts the young knight had spent many efforts trying to lock away. _Dangerous thoughts._

"Is there a route you usually favor on your rides?" he inquired, laboring to make his voice rise above the horses hooves as they clattered across the drawbridge.

The princess shook her head, her long hair shielding the tell-tale blush as she lied, "We usually play it by ear."

Edward smiled. Of course his captain, in his extensive briefing, had made sure to go into exact detail about the route he always took on his rides, even going to great pains to explain the possibilities the landscape offered in several places. The fact that this lady, this innocent hind, was trying to casually hoodwink him only made her all the more endearing to him.

"Pardon my bluntness, my lady," he chuckled, noting how the outside air and demure blush made her face all the more alluring, "but if you desire to ever become a good liar, you will need a lot of practice." His laughter deepened at her confused look, his hand reaching up to briefly touch to her cheek before he could even begin to realize the impropriety of his gesture. "Your blush betrays you."

"As does yours!" the lady jested back, her stomach aflutter with the effects of being touched so intimately by a man. _And what a man indeed!_ "And for your information: my inability to tell a lie stems from inexperience, not from incapability."

"Of course," Edward's smile deepened at the feistiness his companion betrayed. "I would not have dared to insinuate a deficiency lay at the base of your ineptness."

She rolled her eyes, her head turned over her shoulder as she spurred her horse into a full gallop. "Just ride, Lord Cullen. Let us hope that you're better at horsemanship than you are with your words."

It wasn't until the dust had settled after her that Edward managed to clear his mind enough for him to race after her. _How as it that this little waif of a girl had managed to crash through all of the defenses he'd so meticulously built around his heart and innermost thoughts and tribulations when others, more battle hard and experienced than she was, had not even managed to scrape the surface? What kind of magic did this woman possess to be able to torment him so?_ But even in its general state of befuddlement, his mind was still very clear on one thing: this lady was going to be the death of him.

As they rode and talked well into the morning, Edward's mounting suspicion that maybe his queen wasn't as worthy of his dedication as he'd hitherto convinced himself to be, grew more out of control with every word his companion spoke; her wisdom and insightful comments, even for one as young and withdrawn from the world as she was, slowly making him realize that out of the two royal ladies inhabiting the castle, Isabella would be the better ruler.

It was a thought he could never have contemplated crossing his mind when he'd arrived in the capital, a little over two years before; his mind filled with patriotism and his heart with love for his queen. True, for as long he could remember there had been grumblings about queen Victoria's support of those of her barons who stopped at nothing to enrich themselves, but as far as Edward was concerned, the queen's faults were merely caused by inexperience and lending her ear to the wrong people. It was his belief that, in time and with the right councilors to aide her, she would come to her senses and see that extorting money from those who were already suffering did not a happy country make.

It had been two years since and he was saddened to admit, nothing had changed. If anything, those barons whose greedy fingers had bled the country dry of its riches, had only grown in both number and favor with the queen, forcing the few who, like his father, strove to rule their estates justly and fairly further into the margin.

And in the castle too, the change could be felt. When he had first arrived there had been some still who had served under the old king, their courtly grace and knightly manners lending Edward a perfect image to mold himself to. However, those days were long gone now and with the last of the noble knight's departures, so, it seemed, had departed common sense and moral fiber from the ancient halls. After all, when the reigning queen was too busy fucking her first knight to see how her country was slowly but surely falling into ruin, it was safe to say that all decency had left the building.

Edward had been determined not to follow in the footsteps of the many who took the behavior of their betters as an encouragement to lose themselves in similar sins; the excellent education he'd received at the hands of both his parents and the village priest of the small town of Cullen simply forbidding it. Instead he tried to set an example of knighthood to the young squires arriving from all over the land, hoping that it would keep them from the temptations of debauchery. But in it he was the only one, or so he'd thought.

He glanced sideways, his body moving with the easy of many traveled miles as their horses took them further into the wood, the justness of the cause he had been send to execute now, even more than yesterday evening, plaguing on his mind. Killing this girl, this innocent, intelligent mind, seemed so wrong Edward was beginning to doubt whether or not he could complete the task he had set out for. In fact, he was beginning to wonder whether or not he _should_.

"You have doubts." The princess' clear voice shocked him back into the present, her large, doe-like brown eyes staring back at him when his eyes glanced sideways yet again. "Mayhap we should stop now and get this over with before you lose your nerve altogether." She paused, a devious light shining in her eyes at the effect her blunt statement was having on its intended audience, the shimmer immediately extinguished when her thoughts flittered back to the cause of it. "I do not wish to give the queen an excuse to do away with two instead of one."

Edward blanched, the cold sweat of shock fogging on his forehead as he stared at her, their horses slowing down to a trot as if they sensed their riders needed their breath for more important matters. "I-I beg your pardon, my lady," he finally managed to stutter, fighting to regain his composure. "I…I know not of what you speak."

The lady shook her head, a sharp look of dissatisfaction furrowing her brow as she held him locked in her gaze. "I may be young and inexperienced but I am not a simpleton," Isabella stated, as calmly and composedly as if it was a mere trifle of which she spoke, not her life or what would soon become of it. "Over the years my maid has kept me perfectly informed of the state of affairs around the country. I know where I stand and I know what the people are saying so when the queen suddenly sends her most noble knight instead of the most noted scoundrel in the realm to take me out for my daily ride, it is not that difficult for me to surmise that my days are numbered."

"You seem so calm." Edward's breath stocked in his throat as he regarded her; the summit of ladylike composure.

She shrugged her shoulders, pulling on the reigns to halt her horse and dismount. "No amount of pleading or crying could ever change my fate."

"And you accept that?" Edward gasped in surprise, the sheer courage of the woman he'd been sent to kill strengthening his belief that his whole mission was a gross injustice and the perpetration of it a deadly sin.

"Believe me," Isabella stated with a rueful smile, "it is not altogether as easy as it may seem. But pray, do not prolong the inevitable." She dropped to her knees, her dress billowing around her bend legs as she bowed her head. "Do your worst. I am quite prepared."

It was in that moment that Edward made the decision that would change the lives of not only himself and the princess but all the men and women in the realm.

"Rise, my lady. I think I just found another way," he stated, his hand stretching to accommodate hers as she complied to his request, her eyes filled with wonder as she followed him back to their steeds.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama. **_

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_**Another day, another chapter. This is the longest one in the bunch.**_

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_**~ Three ~**_

They rode for hours, Isabella's confusion mounting with every step of the way as she followed him, knowing full well that behind her only lay certain death. She was not sure of what might be in front of her but what she knew was that it couldn't be worse than dying or going back into imprisonment.

"You are not going to kill me?" Isabella asked after they'd rode on in silence for an uncomfortable length of time.

It took a few excruciating moments for him to answer and when he finally did, his reply was wholly unsatisfactory. "No."

"No?" She nervously licked her lips, her small, gloved hands crushing the leather reigns between them as she bravely rode on, trying very hard not to let her outside show how much she was inwardly panicking.

It wasn't until Edward heard the slight tremble in her voice that he was able to break out of his own, chaotic thoughts. "I am sorry," he muttered, ashamed that in his own need for clarity he'd forgotten about the young woman now entrusted to his care. "Please don't take my rather brusque, ungentlemanly reply to mean that I intend to do you any harm. My mind was merely occupied with trying to find a way out of this predicament."

Isabella nodded, figuring how, if she was in his shoes, she'd probably do the same. _For heaven's sake, Isabella_, she muttered to herself, _the man saved your life, probably at the cost of his own! Isn't he allowed to be a bit morose knowing he's just destroyed his very promising career and put his life on the line?_ With that thought in mind she scrapped her throat and pulled her shoulders back, trying to assume that position of authority that she'd seen other women naturally take up. "Then I should beg for you to include me into your musings, for two minds can think more thoughts than one," she spoke, blushing when Edward's eyes were once more fixed upon her with that curious gaze that seemed to be able to look straight through all of her defenses and into her heart.

Edward smiled, his own heart not untouched by the lady's beauty, intelligence and uncommon innocence. "You are quite right, your highness," he spoke, before launching into a careful explanation of the plans he'd so far drawn up in his mind, Isabella surprising him at every step of the way with her clever insights and suggestions.

"For one who's spent most of her years holed up in a tower, you seem very wise," he remarked after a few moments of silence had fallen in the wake of their planning.

"Just because I may not have had the experience of life on the other side of the castle walls, does not mean that I haven't spend many an hour reading about it," Isabella answered with a small shrug of her shoulders, "and since I quite detest just about every form of fancy work, much to my sweet Angela's dismay, I might add, and am not allowed to go out into the castle gardens unaccompanied, reading is about the only past-time available to me."

"I am surprised the queen allows it," Edward thought aloud.

Bella snorted, a deep, scarlet blush settling onto her cheeks as the unladylike sound echoed through the woods surrounding them. "I'd be surprised if she knew," she muttered. "Truly, I do not think the queens wastes a single thought on me unless she has to and with me safely tucked away in my tower and my maid confined to the castle grounds, there's precious little for her to worry about. That is…until a few days ago."

"You are safe now," Edward answered, feeling the need to reassure her of this.

She nodded, wincing slightly as she shifted in the saddle, her body unused to being in the saddle for such a length of time. "May I ask where you are taking me?"

"It's not much further," he assured her. "I'm taking you to stay with my family at Cullen Manor."

"Cullen Manor?" Isabella cried, having thought to be transported abroad, safely out of Victoria's reach. "But that's only a few hours away from the castle. How am I to remain undetected there?" True, Cullen manor lay very close to the Denali borders and the royal family of Denali had always nurtured a strong bond of friendship with King Charles and Queen Renee, but it was still within Victoria's reach.

Edward chuckled, understanding her fears even though they were quite unnecessary. "It may only be a two hour ride from the castle, but it's two hours of riding through dense woods and small, unmarked roads. Believe me when I say that nobody will come looking unless they have a very good reason to do so."

He paused, directing Bella onto a small, unpaved road, half hidden by the dense undergrowth that marked the northern woods, their horses stumbling slightly as they got used to the road that consisted of barely more than just an overgrown cart track. It was only when they were both firmly in the saddle and cantering along steadily again that he spoke again, "And even if they do, the people around these parts aren't exactly fond of their queen nor of the way she governs this realm. If they ever find out about your hiding place, I'd doubt they would betray you."

"But what about your family?" Bella inquired, her voice still betraying some distress. "Would they want to risk their lives by taking in one who has been condemned by their queen?"

"I believe they will be very happy to do so!" Edward was quick to reply. "As much as my father admired me for wanting to make a name for myself in the world, they very sternly disapproved of my choice to enter into the queen's household."

Bella's eyes grew wide. "And that didn't stop you?" She couldn't even fathom every going against the express wishes of her elders, not that she ever had a choice.

"I wanted to be a knight," Edward shrugged. "In all my youthful folly, my head was filled with the knightly _Tales of King Arthur_ and the desire to do good. I thought that by going to the castle I could aid the queen in getting rid of all those bad councilors that had driven her further apart from the people." He shook his head, a self-deprecating smile on his lips as he thought about his own naiveté. "I thought that the court was the breeding ground of courtly behavior not a festering hotbed of fornication and depravity."

"You couldn't have known," Isabella muttered, her heart bleeding for this kind soul who not only embodied what she knew of what a 'true knight' embodied, but had also put his life on the line for her. "Victoria has always been very careful to protect the image she upholds to the people."

"But not careful enough to keep from alerting my father and brother," Edward spoke, his voice bitter as he, once again, lamented his disregard to all of his father's words of wisdom. "They had her figured out from the very start."

He was utterly ashamed now of his foolishness. How could he have thought to encounter bravery and courtesy in a court lead by a woman of whose cruelty and unfeelingness he'd had everyday proof? He should have listened to his father and stay at home, devoting his hours to trying to counteract Queen Victoria's disastrous policies as they wreaked havoc across the land. _But then, Isabella would have been lost…_

"Not much longer now," he reassured her, changing the subject before he revealed too much about his suspicion that not only did his family already know about the rebellious movement that seemed to have sprung up in the larger towns of Forks but were probably very actively involved in it. "Look! There's the town."

Isabella quickly pulled the hood of her thick, velvet cloak over her face, afraid that seeing her might put her and her protector in danger as she peeked around herself. As little as she knew of the world outside the castle, she'd seen enough of the capital town to know that the little village of Cullen was, indeed, little; the few houses scattered around the village church only standing a little closer together than the farms in the area surrounding it.

"As you can see, my father's fiefdom is not very significant," Edward chuckled as he steered his horse into the path left of the church, leading back into the forest. "And do not worry yourself. If these people recognize you, and the change of that happening is very small in itself, they will not lift a finger to put you in harm's way."

"They will not?" Isabella's eyes appeared from underneath her hood.

"Your stepmother is hated by serfs, journeymen and tradesmen across the realm," Edward explained, ducking out of the way of a low hanging branch, "there are precious few who would be willing to shatter their sole chance at reform, no matter how much money she throws at them."

Bella nodded, her mind still too busy processing this new information she'd been given to utter any kind of coherent reply. Their sole chance of reform. Edward's words kept echoing in her mind, the meaning becoming all the more clear with every repeat. He meant _her_. Overthrowing Victoria's reign and putting her, the daughter of the late king, on the throne was the reform the people had in mind. _Victoria had been right after all_, Isabella thought, barely able to contain her shocked giggles, _she was indeed dangerous_.

While Isabella had been shocked into her own little world of thought, they had slowly but surely crossed the half-mile distance between the town and Cullen Manor, the estate Edward called home. As they crossed the small drawbridge that separated the house from the land, his shoulders slumped with relief. _They'd made it. He'd seen the princess safely to her new hiding place. At least in that, he'd succeeded._

"We have arrived." His speech was utterly unneeded since Edward was pretty sure his companion had already surmised that much upon seeing the house and realizing the road they were traveling on ended about twenty feet away from them at the manor's front door. "It does not look like much but-"

"It's lovely," Bella's words interrupted his embarrassed mutterings and as he followed her eyes as they traveled along the horse-shoe shaped collection of thatched, half-timbered buildings that surrounded them, he knew her words were spoken in truth. _She, the princes who should have been queen, really did like it here._ It was strange how that thought pleased Edward to no end.

But as much as Edward wanted to tarry a little, studying the fair lady's face as she looked around her, he knew there was no time to waste. "Father?" Edward called out, swiftly dismounting his horse before helping the princess down from hers. "Is anyone about?"

"Edward?" There was no mistaking the identity of the man emerging from one of the outbuildings, his hair a different color and his life more advanced in years, but his face holding that same open friendliness and those same, vibrantly green eyes as his son. "Well, this is an unexpected surprise! And you've brought a companion too? Am I to have the pleasure of greeting your bride?"

Isabella blushed, too embarrassed to look at either of the two men. _Of course, a woman alone riding out with a man?_ She didn't need a lot of experience in life to know that it was improper behavior, scandalous even.

"I am afraid that honor is one far too high for the likes of me," Edward chuckled kindly, his hands reaching out for hers and slowly nudging her forwards. "Father, might I have the honor of presenting to you the Princess Isabella?"

If Lord Cullen had been shocked, his features barely betrayed it; a few blinks of his eyes and a nervous scrap of his throat and he was back in command of himself, bowing low in greeting before addressing the young woman who, to him, had always been the one true heir of the realm. "Your highness, it is an honor to greet you here at Cullen Manor."

"Lord Cullen," Bella spoke, dipping a low curtsey in return. "I can assure you, the honor is all mine."

The kindness of Lord Cullen's gesture as he took her hands and squeezed them took her a little aback, her withdrawn life in the tower having exposed her to no other affection than that of her nurse and, now, father and son Cullen. "I am sure, my lady, that you must be very cold and weary from your journey so why don't you come on in and sit by the hearth? My wife and I would be honored to welcome you."

She nodded gratefully, the kindness of these strangers completely overwhelming her. "I-I thank you."

Before they could go in, however, they were interrupted by a little cannonball of a young girl, shooting from the front door at high speed. "Edward!" she cried, the skirts of her dress flying wildly around her legs. "You are here!"

Edward chuckled, stumbling slightly as the girl, who seemed to be only a few years younger than Isabella, careened into him, his arms immediately tightening around her small frame as he hugged her to him. _She must be his sister_, Isabella thought, deriving from the girl's lack of years that she could not be his wife. She wasn't sure why but that thought made her very happy.

"For heaven's sake, sister," another voice sounded from the door, "remember yourself!"

The woman who emerged from the front door made Isabella's heart sink all the way to her shoes, the beauty of this unknown female combined with the right kind of age making her what Isabella believed the perfect candidate for this young knight's bride.

If only Isabella could have known that the sight of Rosalie Cullen, his brother's bride of four years, was not a very welcome one to Edward, she would not have fretted so.

"Rosalie," Edward replied curtly, dropping his sister back to her own two feet. "I trust you are well?"

"Very well," his sister in law responded, proudly rubbing the small bump protruding from her stomach, her attention momentarily draw away as she addressed her sister in law. "Alice, why don't you go find my husband? I reckon he would want to know his brother has arrived."

Alice nodded before running off again, much to the amusement of her father and brother and the dismay of Rosalie. "That little wood elf will never find a suitable husband if she keeps on acting like a total savage!" she muttered, her hands locked firmly on her hips as she shook her head.

Meanwhile Edward's gaze softened as his eyes followed her hands. "Emmett must be over the moon."

Rosalie chuckled, her eyes softening as she remembered the look of exaltation on her husband's eyes when she told him she was finally with child after many failed attempts. "That he is."

The sound of Lord Cullen scrapping his throat behind them reminded Edward and Rosalie that they were not alone, the look on Isabella's face making Edward feel like a complete oaf for the second time that day, for completely disregarding her feelings. She must have been so confused and scared, being hounded by a troupe of complete strangers and yet he just stood there, making nice with his sister in law like nothing had happened.

"Isabella?" he took his princess' hand in his, his thumb rubbing circles into the palm of her hand in the hope it would soothe her as he gently pulled her forward. "I would like you to meet my sister in law, Lady Rosalie Cullen. Rosalie, I present to you the Princess Isabella."

"Sister in law?" Isabella bit her lip in a desperate attempt not to look too jubilant. _No wife. At least, not yet. _

"Indeed," Rosalie smiled, sweeping a curtsey before taking a step forward to breech the gap, her eyes betraying nothing of shock or discomfort. "I had the good fortune to marry the _sensible_ Cullen boy."

Edward's eyes narrowed, the bruise Rosalie's swift change of preferment from the younger to the older had left on his ego still smarted too painfully to be able to make light of it.

Rosalie Hale had been the great beauty of the county and had had her suitors for the picking. Still, it had mostly been her own shrewdness that had made her eye fall on the Cullens and the much coveted title they held.

Unfortunately for Miss Hale, by the time she did, the eldest of the Cullen boys, as they were called throughout the estate, had already been betrothed to the daughter of a neighboring nobleman so instead she had set her cap on Edward in the hopes that fate would intervene and remove the obstacles between her and the keys to the manner. And it had, though maybe not in the way she'd anticipated.

On the eve of signing the betrothal contract, the sad news of the death of Emmett's fiancé had reached Cullen manor, Rosalie's declaration on the shift of her affections from the younger to the older brother following soon after. The situation, as it had stood then, had caused a rift in the once so happy household, with Emmett swiftly falling in love with beautiful Miss Hale now that he was free to do so and Edward demanding the promise that had been made to him by both Rosalie and her father be honored, even though legally he didn't have a leg to stand on.

It had been the final push that had driven him away from Cullen Manor and to the castle, hoping distance would reconcile him to the fact that woman he'd once intended to be his own, was now married to his brother. And it had.

As he looked at her fine features enhanced by happiness and love, he knew that, as much as it had wounded him – and still did – Rosalie had made the right decision. The two of them had never belonged together and never would.

"Let us go in?" Lord Cullen offered, banishing the final awkwardness as he took Rosalie's arm. "I am sure Lady Cullen must be wondering what all this ruckus is about."

Isabella happily let Edward support her travel-worn frame as she walked into the manor house, his arms linked with hers and the warmth emanating from his body preventing the chill of fear from settling on her bones.

"Dear wife," Lord Cullen called as they crossed the threshold into the hall, "allow me to introduce to you the Lady Isabella, daughter of our most beloved king."

The Lady Esme's eyes briefly widened in shock before she regained her composure, her dress rustling as she crossed the straw strewn floor to reach her guests. "You are very welcome here, your highness," she spoke, her voice betraying a nobility that Isabella had yet to encounter in her stepmother the queen.

"I thank you," she uttered, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes at the overwhelming kindness she'd encountered in these strangers.

"The Lady Isabella is to stay with us for a while," Lord Cullen explained, to the general astonishment of his family. "I am sure everyone will do their utmost to make her feel safe and at home."

Rosalie nodded, her quick mind, like Esme's already catching up on the hidden meaning behind his words. Little Alice took a little longer, small gasp leaving her mouth when she too, realized the perilous predicament her new friend was in.

"You will be safe here," Esme reassured her, wrapping her arms around the young girl's slender frame as her younger son and his father slunk off to the side, discussing their plans in hushed tones. "I hope you will find this to be a very happy household."

Isabella smiled, the love these people had for each other already having become apparent at first glance. "I already have."

More family members started to trickle into the hall, amongst whom a man whose huge, bulking shape made Isabella's eyes grow wide with shock, never having seen someone as tall and imposing as him.

"Now you've already met my husband, Carlisle, and the girls," Esme went on, her warm motherly voice immediately putting Isabella at ease, "And that man just come in is Emmett, my other son." She smiled as Isabella's eyes widened at the sight of what seemed to be not just a man but some sort of giant. "I fear I may have to give you an advance warning," she noted, "for my eldest can be a little boisterous and overwhelming at first but once you'll get to know him you'll soon realize that all of his words are kindly meant."

Isabella nodded, still hovering between awe and fear as she watched the man-giant, Emmett, cross the room in long strides, his grin widening as he lifted his squealing wife high up in the air as if she weighed no more than a feather before planting a kiss on her lips that made Isabella's cheeks flush crimson.

"And finally there's Jasper Whitlock," Esme concluded, nodding in the direction of the young man who'd come in with Emmett and was now washing his hands in a bucket near the door. "He is the son of my dear sister who, along with her husband and four other children, died in last year's outbreak of typhoid fever."

"I am so sorry to hear that," Isabella muttered, her knowledge of that dreadful decease being only superficial, as her incarceration had saved her from the horrors that accompanied it.

"It is the way of this world," the older woman shrugged. "It does no good to dwell on it too much. My only hope is that they are in a better place now."

"I am sure of it," Isabella spoke, following Esme as they joined the rest of the family around the big hearth that took up most of the west wall of the hall, all seven members of the family now huddling around their newest member.

"Edward," Carlisle broke what promised to be an awkward silence, "I believe you owe us all a lengthy explanation."

"I believe I do," Edward smiled, his hand once again seeking out Isabella's as he started to speak, the pressure of his hold on hers diminishing whatever fears or embarrassment she might otherwise have felt at hearing her sad tale recounted.

"The queen wanted you dead?" Much to Isabella's surprise it was Lady Cullen who was first to react, her outrage visible both in word and in action as she jumped up, a quick look of understanding passing between her husband and her. "Something must be done about that woman. For too long now that bitch of a woman has taken us for nothing but dwarves; insignificant little minions she can do with as she pleases and who will accept her folly without questioning. It is high time she learned her lesson." Rosalie and Alice chuckled softly as the Cullen men sat staring at their matriarch, completely dumbstruck by the passionate words she had just spoken.

"There's talk of folks in the market towns planning revolt," Jasper finally spoke. "If this news came out…." He didn't have to finish his statement, all present in the room knowing the effect such a revelation would have. "What are your plans?"

"My plans…" Edward chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "For now, I believe the plan is to go back to the castle and act as if I'd carried out my duty to the note."

"And you believe you can take this happen?" his brother interrupted, his eyes looking more worried than critical.

"I do," Edward nodded, Isabella's swift nod bringing a smile to his lips as he thought about the plans they'd spent most of their ride construing. "In fact, the very nature of the queen's plan almost assures my success."

"And then?" It was Rosalie who spoke next, her hand distractedly rubbing circles over her swollen belly.

Edward sighed. This was the part that was still embarrassingly indefinite. "Then, we try to raise an army without getting noticed."

"Just like that!" Emmet snorted.

"Yes," Edward answered, his voice calm and certain, even though he was by no means at all. "Just like that."

"We believe that once the story of the queen's attack on the Lady Isabella's life will get out, the people will rally like they have never done before," Carlisle interrupted before the situation between his sons might get awkward. "We will have to be careful not to betray that the Lady Isabella is still alive, though."

Meanwhile a look out of one of the windows had Edward squirming uncomfortably in his seat. The sun was already well past its highest point, which meant that his time at home was swiftly running out.

"You have to be on your way again, do you not?" Alice, in a wisdom that seemed to have appeared from thin air, spoke.

"I can account for my being absent throughout most of the day very easily," Edward nodded, "but if I am not returned before evening meal, the queen is bound to grow suspicious."

"Then you'd better be on your way," his father spoke, sending Jasper and his eldest son out to saddle the horses with a quick movement of his head before turning his attention back towards his younger son, his voice echoing the worry that was already so apparent on his wife's face.

"Come, Isabella," Alice and Rosalie rose almost as if on command, each taking one of the princess' hands as they tugged her slowly in the direction of the solar. "Let's get you sorted out."

Edward watched after her, the discomfort settling into his bones at having Isabella out of his sight, already promising much hardship along the way, when he had to leave her in the care of his family.

"I beg of you to be very careful, son," his father spoke after the three young women had disappeared behind the sturdy, oak door. "Even if she remains unaware of the Lady Isabella's faith, you form a great risk to her."

"I know," Edward agreed solemnly. "I will take great care to not go anywhere alone and be sure to take the first faraway mission that crosses my path."

Esme nodded, her eyes still betraying her fear for her child's safety as she took his hands and pressed them to her lips. "Please return to us."

"I will, mother," Edward assured her with a false conviction, the doubt in his face hidden as he leaned in to kiss his mother's cheek.

"I'm proud of you, son," his father came next, a meaningful look passing between the elder and younger Cullen as they clasped hands, the tension that had long been between them gone now that the son had come to his senses. "We will do whatever we can to support you."

Edward leaned in, disguising his whispers under the cloak of a familial hug. "Keep her safe, father. Whatever the cost."

Carlisle smiled, already sensing that his sons' interest in the young princess went far beyond the duties of a lawful subject. "I will. Ease your worries on that behalf, son, for we will keep her safe while you focus your attention on getting through this alive." No further words were needed; the pact entered into by both of them so clear that it needed no further elucidation.

In fact, it wasn't until Edward said his goodbyes to Isabella, newly returned in one of Rosalie's dresses, after pulling his sister into a firm, almost crushing hug that he spoke again. "You will be safe here," he spoke, his family giving him as much privacy as the moderately sized hall allowed.

Isabella nodded, the thought of Edward leaving her making her feel strangely bereft. "I will miss you." The words were out of her mouth before she knew it, a shocked laughter following soon after as she clasped her hands in front of her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at her brave knight. _What had she done? The man had risked his life for her and she betrayed it by being as forward as a common trollop? _

Edward's next move surprised her, his touch feeling light as a feather and yet still burning her skin as the back of her hand stroked her blush-heated cheek. "I will miss you too," he spoke, the sudden hoarseness to his voice making her shiver, though not from any sort of draft or cold.

"I must away." And with that final sentence he was gone, leaving only cold where his warm touch had been before, Isabella's heartbeat slowly going back to normal as she stared after him until he disappeared into the stable building.

Edward's heart was in a similar turmoil as he crossed the courtyard in long strides, cursing himself for almost having the audacity to press his lips to those of a princess, and that in front of his parents. _What in the world had he been thinking?_

If his mind had finally caught up with him, it wasn't given long to contemplate the impropriety of his 'would be' actions. "What are you doing Edward?" His brother's voice called him out as soon as he entered the stable building. "Do you realize what kind of risk you've exposed us to?"

"Of course I do!" The words came out a little more brusquely than perhaps he'd expected them to be. It wasn't that Edward hadn't expected these words to come from his brother, in fact he'd almost counted on them. Still, that didn't mean that Emmett's apparent lack of faith in him didn't sting. For years now, he'd labored to rid himself of the 'reckless younger brother' label that had seemed to follow him throughout his youth so the fact that his brother, seemingly without thinking, pushing him back into it hurt even more than Emmett could suspect.

"Do you?" his brother was quick to challenge, his arms crossed sternly in front of his broad chest as both brothers glared at each other in that familiar, unyieldingly stubborn way. "Because it seems to me like you blew caution to the wind the minute this pretty girl landed at your feet."

"Do you really think so little of me?" Edward's voice betrayed his hurt now as he squared off, desperate not to give his brother any cause to think of him as weak. "When you look at me, is that all you see? A man so callous that he's willing to risk his own family for the gratification of his own base desires?"

"No," Emmett was fast to backtrack, his hand betraying his discomfort as it scratched the back of his head, "but I do have to admit that it's hard to understand the meaning behind your plan when it seems to endanger everything father and I have spent years trying to built."

"It's my desire to protect all that which spurned this plan," Edward vehemently declared, laughing slightly at the look of confusion on his brother's face. "Truly, Emmett, have you never stopped to think what it might mean to you, to all of us, when the Lady Victoria will be free to run roughshod all over this country?"

Slowly but surely, understanding started to dawn on his brother's face, the angry frown now dropping into a pained smirk. "I believe that would mean disaster."

"So do I," Edward nodded.

"But what does the fair Isabella have to do with this?" Emmett questioned.

"She's the key," Edward cried, his passion betrayed in word, posture and the sparks dancing in his eyes as he spoke. "She's the only one left of the late king's blood and the only thing that can ever stand between Victoria and the throne; the only one who's name can rally enough men to rise up against a future of tyranny and oppression."

"But at what cost?" Emmett countered, his hand tightening around the stable door as his mind conjured up all sorts of horror scenario's involving his wife and his unborn child. "Do you really wish to bet your own family's life against this harebrained scheme on the odd chance it might work?"

"Do you wish to raise your child in a world ruled by Victoria and her allies?" Edward argued.

"Well no," Emmett grudgingly acknowledged, "but I don't want it to fatherless either and that's exactly what will happen if you have your way."

"It is a risk worth taking," Edward shrugged, calmly refastening the straps that closed his traveling cloak.

"Says the man who has neither wife, child or property," Emmett sneered. "It's easy for you to take risks with your life, knowing that the only consequence will be the loss of it. What do you think life will be like for Rosie and the little one if I die? Do you think Victoria will just let them and the other womenfolk live on at this house, knowing that every single male member of this family turned against her?" He paused, shaking his head. "They will be turned out before our bodies are cold in the ground and either forced to marry men loyal to Victoria who will prevent them from stirring up another riot or left to starve in the hedgerow."

"So you will stand by and let others do the fighting for you," Edward spat back, checking the horse's tack before leading the animal slowly out of the barn, "because you know as well as I do that, whichever way things go, there's going to be a battle. It is only a matter of time."

Emmett crossed his hands in front of his chest, watching as his brother mounted his steed. "We will cross that bridge when we get to it."

Edward smiled sadly. "Unfortunately not all of us have that luxury. There will come a time, sooner or later, when each man in this realm will have to make a choice. Will you stand with me when that moment comes?"

"You already know the answer, brother," Emmett answered, folding his hand around his brother's and clasping it through the leather reigns. "I may not approve of the path you've led us on but that does not mean that I will not fight to rid this country of Victoria's tyranny."

The younger brother nodded. He knew that his brother had always been an ardent supporter of the cause, though his methods had always been a little more prudent. If the time came for action, Emmett would always have his back.

"God speed, younger brother," Emmett spoke, a tense, resigned smile on his lips as they took their leave. "Fare thee well."

"As to you, Emmett," Edward nodded, reigning in his impatient horse. "Protect our family in my absence."

Emmett nodded his head, his lips pulling into a full, toothy grin as he watched his younger brother spur his horse and take off in a mad dash, the hoofs of his horse echoing across the draw bridge as Edward slowly disappeared into the woods and out of sight.

Unlike his brother, he had never been a man for philosophy or grandeur, his motivation for supporting those who resisted their queen always having been the evidence of Victoria's evil as he witnessed it close to home. He'd always known, deep down in his heart, that one day there would have to be a war to overturn the queen's evil reign but until his little brother had shown up out of the blue carrying a princess in tow, he'd never realized how soon that day would come. Or how dangerous it might be.

"God speed, little brother," Emmett muttered once more, scratching the back of his head as he looked back at the manor house. "For God knows, you will need it. As do we all."

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_**Thoughts? **_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama. **_

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_**~ Four ~**_

Edward's mind was already fixed on other things, his eyes keenly looking around him as he spurred his horse to make haste; the sun already starting to dip low behind the treetops as the chill of twilight made him pull his cloak closer around his frame.

He had to focus if he was going to pull this off; the success of first and very critical phase of the plan he and Bella had spent most of their ride conjuring up depended on it.

Yet still, in spite of all that weight resting on his shoulders, Edward couldn't prevent his mind from drifting down more pleasurable avenues whenever it wasn't fixed on finding his way back to the castle or scouring the woods for a suitable prey; the beautiful, perfectly almond-shaped eyes of Princes Isabella following him every step of the way and making him smile, despite of the cold chilling his bones, his hungry stomach's reproaches and the imminent and great danger he was in.

She was the woman he should have been fighting for all along; the Arthurian princess worthy of knightly devotion. He'd been a goner since the first time he'd set eyes on her in that tower, he realized that now even though back then he'd still been so determined to do his duty that he'd been completely blind. Even though he had little cause to hope a woman like her – a princess of the blood – would ever settle for a glorified farmer like him, he knew in his heart that she would be his one and only love from this day forward until he blew out his final breath.

Finally, when he was close to despair, a few hundred yards away from the castle gates Edward finally found what he was looking for; a mighty stag shooting away in the undergrowth startled by the hoofs of Edward's horse pounding along the forest road. Edward immediately started the chase; a seasoned hunter like himself keeping up with the trail and knowing just what to do to corner the animal and render it defenseless between a rocky hill slope and its impending doom.

He felt a slight pang of regret, killing such a strong, noble animal with one well-placed arrow through the neck; the dying stag twitching as the blood gushed out of the wound, it's eyes flashing wildly before admitting defeat as it slowly sagged to the floor and bled out. Still, he knew it was a necessary evil his need putting an end to all regret as he quickly dismounted and grabbed the dress his sister had neatly folded and packed before soaking it in the dead animal blood as he wriggled his hunting knife free from his boot.

Completing his bloody task he couldn't help but snicker a bit at the cleverness of their plan. _If only James had known that the very nature of his grand scheme could be turned against him, he would not have looked so smug when he'd accosted the knight he'd held such faith in late yesterday afternoon. _

As soon as the hot, bloody heart had been cut free from the deer's chest, he rolled it into the now equally bloodied dress, barely resisting the urge to sniff the untainted sleeves in the hope some of Isabella's scent still clung to it.

"Do not waver," he admonished himself, quickly wadding the dress up into a messy ball and stuffing it back into his saddlebag before erasing all traces of the deer. Finally done, he sighed, his boots feeling as if they were made of lead as he crossed the short distance towards his horse and remounted, the final leg of his journey back to the castle being one he wasn't looking forward to.

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_**Thoughts? **_

_**Because this one is so short, you'll get one more update later today. **_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama. **_

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_**~ Five ~**_

Victoria was pacing nervously in front of the hearth. "What's taking him so long?" she complained, turning towards the lone figure reclined in his seat a little further back from the heat. "He should have been back by now, shouldn't he?"

James shrugged, barely able to hide his chagrin after having heard words of a similar purport for most of the afternoon. "Knowing young Cullen he probably wants to stay to make sure he's erased every last trace. Besides, he will probably wait until the changing of the guards before he makes his reappearance lest the gatemen will start questioning why only one returns where two set out this morning."

"Are you sure he can be trusted?" Victoria's eyes narrowed as she paused, her anxious heart beating faster with every minute that passed without news.

"I'm sure," James voice sounded steady though he, himself, was anything but; the figure of Victoria, backlit by the blazing heat of the fire, gaining an almost diabolical note, reminding him of the fact that even without him she would have been a queen of the kind that could have made the whole country shake with just one look.

_That look_. It had the power to scare a man out of his wits and turn him on at the same time, his cock already stirring underneath his tunic at the thought of celebrating the death of that little nuisance later on.

"You'd better be." James didn't let the calmness in Victoria's voice fool him for it knew that in low, calm and controlled notes lurked a greater danger than in her outrage. "Your life depends upon it."

He leaned back, his lips pulling into a sneer that was more confident than he felt. "A does yours, I believe."

Her eyes narrowed but before she could speak, a hesitant knock at the door preceded the arrival of a young, slightly scared looking pageboy. "What?"

The young boy cowered at the sound of his queen's harsh voice, his voice faltering as he conveyed his message. "T-there's a m-m-man at the door, y-your highness."

"And does this man have a name?" Victoria barked, her annoyance at being presented with this blundering idiot of a servant outweighing any amusement his stammering might have offered. She _was definitely going to have a strong word with her head housekeeper later on._

"Y-yes, your highness." The poor boy's back was dripping with the sweat of fear as he tried to remember everything he had been taught in the few days he'd been working at the castle. "His name is Edward Cullen – _Lord_ Edward Cullen. He says you're expecting him."

"Then what am I still doing listening to your pathetic rambling?" Victoria roared, her temper and impatience almost exploding out of every pore. "Send the man in!"

James chuckled, having witnessed the whole exchange in quiet amusement. He didn't feel an ounce of sympathy for Victoria's latest victim. The boy should have known better than to mess up in front of his sovereign. Besides, it was nice change to have someone else bear the brunt of Victoria's horrible temper for a change.

He shifted, sitting up a little straighter in his chair, when Edward Cullen was brought in, his smile widening the minute he noticed the rumpled little package in the young knight's hands. _Isabella's dress. He'd done it._

"Is she dead?" Victoria asked as soon as all those 'uninitiated' into the conspiracy had left the room.

Edward bowed, hiding his distaste for the woman he'd so dutifully served up until that day behind his low curtsy. "Yes, your highness."

"How?" she barked, her cat-like eyes trained to the package in Edward's hands as she slithered into the high-backed seat of honor close to the fireplace. "How did you do it? How did she die?"

"I slid her throat when she crouched down to drink at a stream," Edward answered, his voice calm, composed and betraying nothing of the lies he was telling. "I took her corpse into the woods and discarded it down a ravine. The wolves will take care of the rest."

Victoria's face lit up in a sinister smile, her body so alive with happiness that she jumped up from her seat and started pacing, unable to contain herself any longer. "And the proof?"

Edward walked forward, his shoulders tense and his feet feeling like they were weighed down by anvils as he handed over Isabella's dress. "The heart is inside," he spoke, sending a silent prayer to the heavens above that his queen wasn't so well-up in human and animal anatomy that she recognized the heart for what it was.

She didn't. As she reached out to grab the bundle for Edward's grip, her hands were trembling, though not from fear or reluctance. It was the anticipation of the enormous deadweight the very existence of her rival had become to her being lifted that made her shiver with delight as she hastily folded away the costly fabric, her eyes widening like a child's as she gazed at the present the young knight had just bestowed upon her. "This-" her voice too shook with emotion as she spoke, her free hand hovering over the bloodied organ almost as if it would caress it. "This is the greatest gift anyone could ever bestow upon me."

Edward swallowed, the concealment of his repulsion becoming harder by the minute. "It was my honor to serve my one true queen in this matter."

"An honor for which you will be duly thanked," Victoria answered, the slight nod of her head letting him know that he was dismissed.

_That went easy enough._ He sighed, breathing in the fresh air slowly and deeply the minute he stood outside, the light emanating from the windows of the main hall in his back and the cold starry night to his front as he tried to shake off the sordidness of what had just come to pass. Looking up, his eyes caught a faint flicker coming from the tower's one and only window, his mind wondering what might happen to Isabella's trusty maid now that her ward was presumed dead. He didn't want to dwell on it too much because in no scenario his mind could come up with, did not bode well for the old woman.

He sighed, wishing there was anything that could be done for that poor old woman. _Isabella will be protected and that is the only thing that matters in the end._

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama. **_

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_**~ Six ~**_

"What are you going to do with it?" James' bemused smirk hadn't left his face since Cullen had left the room. "I assume you don't want to have it displayed in your hall?"

"No," Victoria beamed back, still holding the heart of her dead stepdaughter in her hands as if it were a newborn baby. "Just knowing that I'm still here while nothing remains of her is good enough for me." And if to emphasize her words, she pulled back her arm and threw, the bundle containing the heart and the dress into the fireplace, the fabric catching fire as soon as it landed in the middle of the hearth.

"So much trouble," she mused, the light of the fire dancing in her eyes, "so easy to destroy."

"Well, she's not dead yet," James sighed, knowing the danger was far from over yet. "At least not in the eyes of the world."

"It is only a matter of time." Victoria turned away from the heath now that the big flames had simmered down again, her voice almost song-like as she spoke. "The wheels have already been set in motion."

"Is that so?" James mused, his pulse picking up as he watched Victoria slowly stalk towards him, her hips swaying sultrily with every step she took. He might at times have become weary with the person she was but he'd never get tired of fucking his queen and knowing that for a few fleeting moments, he possessed her.

She leaned in, her hot breath fanning over his skin as she leaned in, her tongue licking over his lips. "Yes."

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_

_**I'm having too much fun writing the evil queen. I scare myself. **_

_**As you might have suspected, this will be another two-chapter day. **_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

**Beta'ed by Jadsmama**

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_**~ Seven ~**_

Over the next few days, Victoria's statement came true as the people gathered in morning, the news of princess Isabella's sudden death after falling victim to illness leaving the nation in shock.

The queen played her role perfectly, no one as grievously bereft as she as the princess was laid to rest. Only James and she knew that the body hidden by the shroud didn't belong to the princess but to her maid; the stately funeral poor Angela was awarded a measly exchange for the sacrifice of her life.

What did not go so smoothly were James and Victoria's plans to get rid of the young knight; the only one alive now, who knew the truth. Whatever they tried and no matter how well-though up their plans were, for some reason the young man always managed to evade death without as much as a scratch to mar his skin. It was almost like he was forewarned.

"He is rarely ever alone," James complained, standing corrected after yet another of his queen's tirades. "I can't very well have him killed in full sight when already there's talk around the fireplace of the uncanny coincidence that would have Cullen struck by so much misfortune."

"Then think of something else!' Victoria screeched, her initial pleasure at being rid of one thorn in her side now ruined by the appearance of yet another one who could ruin her plans. "I _need_ him dead! There has to be some way you can get rid of him."

"Do you really think I wouldn't have found it if, indeed, there was a way?" James growled back, his professional pride once again bruised by Victoria's snide remarks. "Cullen's reputation among the men is too grand to have him smeared and if something happens to him that could lead back to us….."

He didn't have to finish his sentence, for Victoria already knew what would happen in such a case. _Disaster_. "Then at least make sure he stays where we can keep an eye on him."

James nodded, knowing the finality in her voice for what it was: a dismissal, so he quickly righted his clothes that had come askew after his midday romp with the queen and marched back down to the main hall only to find Cullen's usual spot empty.

"Where is he?" James eyes zeroed in on the first knight he could find, a gangly looking kid by the name of Michael Newton.

The young man balked, the look in his boss' eyes not boding well. "A man arrived while you were out, my lord," he explained, his voice laced with fear. "It appears there's some trouble stirring in the north so Cullen and Sir Thomas Crowley left with him to check it out."

_Dammit_! James' hands clenched by his side. _If Victoria would hear of this….._ "How long ago did they leave?"

"Too long to overtake them," Michael spoke, picking up on the unspoken question buried in his lord's words.

"Go after them," James barked, feeling a desperate need to smash something. "Find out what is going on in the north and report back to me. Don't engage them. In fact, don't even let them find out you're there. Do you think you can do that?"

"Y-yes, sir," Newton stammered, relieved to be handed an excuse to leave. Ever since he had arrived at court, a few months ago, he'd had ample proof of the dangers of being near the queen's first knight whenever James was mad with rage.

A low roar rumbled through James' chest as soon as young Newton was out of earshot; an empty beer jug on the table shattering into a million little pieces as it smashed against the wall, soon followed by everything else that was within striking distance. _All their plans…ruined. _

Now that Cullen had done a runner, the story of the lady Isabella's death would be in the open in no time; rallying the people against their queen and plunging the country into civil war. _That was….._

James sucked in a sharp breath as a horrible suspicion started to take post. _What if Cullen hadn't killed that little slut to begin with? What if she was still alive somewhere, waiting to lead the rebels into war? _If his suspicions were right and Cullen had gone off to join the rebels, there really was no telling how deep his betrayal went or how long ago it had started.

After all, he'd only seen a heart and a bloodied dress and though he'd been more than willing to believe that the 'perfect knight' had spoken the truth at the time, there really was no telling who that heart had belonged to.

James didn't have to wait long to hear this theory confirmed, a cautions knock on the door preceding a nervous looking usher with the announcement that there were people to see them.

"Have them wait!' James growled, more eager to drown his sorrows in ale while he fucked one of the kitchen maids than listen to some farmer's sob story about how his evil landlord had robbed him of his livelihood. He'd already heard enough of those to last him a lifetime. "Or better even: let some other man deal with their moans."

"But sir…" the usher licked his lips nervously. "They have been here since sunrise and refuse to speak to anyone but you. They are adamant that you will benefit from what they have to tell you."

That piqued James' interest, his cold blue eyes shooting up to see if the usher was gilding the truth somewhat. It wouldn't have been the first time a thing like that would have happened, nor would this usher have been the first one to lose his job over it. But it didn't look like that was the case this time, the young man looking scared but honest as he lingered near the door. "Very well then," James sighed, flopping his body into the nearest chair. "Send them in. And bring me a jug of ale to keep my company while I listen to these maggots."

The maggots in question turned out to be a young farmer from up north and his sister, the both of them awkwardly shuffling into the room, not knowing what to do with the situation.

"Well?" James barked, downing half his jug of ale. "Out with it! What did you want to tell me that was so important?"

"It's….it's my sister," the young farmer, a man by the name of Alec Tyler spoke.

"Your sister," James repeated, his rat-like eyes shifting from the man to the woman. "What about her? Did I fuck her? Is that what this is about?" He leaned forward, studying the girl a little closer. She was pretty enough, that was for sure, but her pale face and mousy blond hair didn't look familiar. "Do I have another bastard crawling around somewhere?" It wouldn't have been the first kid he'd sired while out on campaign, nor probably the last. "Do you want money?"

"No, sir." It was the sister who spoke this time, her voice clear and without any hint of fear as she looked him square in the eye.

James sat back, a bemused on his smile as he stared back at her. He had to admit, the girl had some gall for looking at him like that. It wasn't what you'd expect from someone who looked as mousy and comely as she did. "Then what it is?"

"Me and my brother are from the town of Cullen, near the Denali border," she went on, the mention of the name of Cullen immediately sparking James' keen interest. "We thought it might interest you to know that the Lord Masen of Cullen seems to have gained a new family member overnight; a young woman by the name of Isabella."

* * *

_**Uh-oh. **_

_**Thoughts?**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama.**_

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_**~ Eight ~**_

Meanwhile Edward found himself in the heart of the resistance; men he'd known for most of his life sitting amidst strangers who kept a wary eye on him.

He couldn't blame him. Where with his father's careful direction, it had been easy enough to find this place, proving that he wasn't one of Victoria's spies would be much harder. After the many moons in which he'd been seen carrying out the evil queen's policies and defending her reign across the lands, Edward wouldn't have been surprised if many of the men assembled, including some of which who'd known him for years, were reluctant to put their trust in him.

"My friends!" Peter, baron of Locksley spoke, his commanding voice silencing the men as he rose from his seat. "I am sure that by now most of you will have noticed our guest."

The low rumble of hushed voices made Peter chuckle as he rested his hand on Edward's shoulder, his movement meant to both reassure Edward of his support and deliver that same message to the men. "And I am equally sure most of you are wondering what in God's name this fellow is doing at our table!" he went on, his remark getting the effect he was aiming for as most men assembled started to laugh.

"I know some of you have known this man for most of his life, while others merely know his father and brother who have both long supported our cause," Peter went on, his voice never wavering as he spoke, looking each and every man in the eye. "There are also those of you, who probably only know him as just another one of usurper Victoria's little errant boys."

"That's right!" a bearded man shouted from the back of the room. "I say that instead of sitting here and letting this beardless boy deliver us into the clutches of that evil harpy, we show him just what we think of that whore and everyone who stands with her!" Some, most of whom surrounding the speaker, nodded in agreement, some of which even going as far as to holler a 'hell yes!'.

"Silence!" Peter's voice thundered through the room, effectively silencing every opposition. "I will not let any man speak like that to one who is a guest at my table, least of all you, Jacob Black!"

The man in question, Jacob Black, sat back, his anger at being so publicly reprimanded rolling off him in waves though he remained silent, his friends closing in around him almost like a protective cordon. Edward knew there and then that they would be the group he'd most have to be on his guard around for they would never trust him, no matter how often he'd proof his worth.

"Edward Cullen is a guest here and I expect each and every one of you to award him the courtesy a guest in my home deserves," he went on, "especially one who has risked more for our cause than any other man in this room combined." His words hit like a stroke of thunder, brows furrowing all around the table as the men tried to guess what he'd meant.

"Men," again Peter paused, his eyes wandering over the faces of those who'd sworn their loyalty to the resistance, "it is with great joy that I can tell you the princess Isabella is still alive and well and standing next to me is the man who saved her."

For a moment, utter silence fell across the room until the first cries of jubilation sounded, men clapping each other shoulders or embracing with relief as the realization that their cause was still very much alive.

"I have known this information for a few weeks," Peter, again, spoke, "but as most of you will know, this information is too precious to be shared with anyone who does not need to know. Today, however, all of this has changed." He turned, his hand never leaving it's place on Edward's shoulder as he looked at him. "Edward? Would you tell the men what happened?'

Edward nodded, taking a few steadying breaths before he rose. "Today, a pair of tenants from my father's lands arrived at the castle, demanding to speak with the first knight." He smiled as down the table a few heads shook in disgust. "The pair in question, a brother and sister hailing from one of the wealthier farms on my father's land, have long been a thorn in our sides, their focus more on their own advancement than on the well-being of the people of Cullen."

More people started to nod as slowly, the hostility that had been so alive only a few moments ago, now giving way to a friendlier atmosphere. "When they arrived, I knew that the time for secrecy had passed."

"The usurper Victoria has long been trying to get rid of Edward for he is the only one living who can testify to the fact that it was she who ordered him to kill the princess." Again, Peter's words caused a wave of hushed conversation to roll through the room. "Edward has borne this because his absence at the castle would only throw suspicion on the death of our beloved princess but now his job is done and the task will fall to us to rise and defend our princess rights to the throne against that vile woman. What say you, men, are you with me?"

The first cries of support echoed through the large hall as Peter grabbed his goblet and raised it to the air. "For Isabella, our one and only righteous queen!"

"Isabella!" The princess name thundered through the room like a lion's roar, many jugs and goblet being clinked as men drank to her well-being and to the success of the cause.

Hearing her name not only falling from his lips but echoed throughout the room in the voices of those who would lay their lives on the line to protect her, stirred a fire in Edward's heart, filling his whole being with a desperate love and urge to protect. Even if her heart would never be his; could never be his, his would always be hers and her would defend her life and her rights against Victoria, James and holy God if needs be.

Today would only be the beginning, hopefully of something good.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_

_**Happy New Year everyone!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama**_

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_**I hope everyone had a lovely New Years Eve and that 2012 will bring you all that you may wish for. Oh, and let's hope the Mayans were wrong. **_

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_**~ Nine ~**_

Isabella remained oblivious of all this, her life consisting of nothing but love and happiness as the Cullens' strove to make the young princess feel at home. There was some talk of Victoria and the dangers that lurked around the corner but for the most part, the Cullens were quite happy to live their life as they had always done: trying to make the best out of a hard situation.

And Isabella enjoyed it like she never had enjoyed herself. During those happy, untroubled weeks at Cullen Manor she learned more about her country and the troubles it was facing than in all sixteen years that had preceded them; both Lord Cullen and his oldest son regaling her with the tales of the land as well as their manner of managing it.

As for the women, they taught her as much as the men and maybe even more so, though their lessons would be applied more in everyday life as opposed to the government of a country. They taught her about love and how that love could manifest itself in many ways, shapes or forms, from the love that existed between man and wife or parents and children, to the loving support a wife could show her husband by making sure his house was in order and his tenants happy and cared for while he kept his eye on the bigger picture.

It was on one morning, after they had completed most of their chores for the day, that Alice and Isabella set out for the field behind the manor house, a favorite spot of Alice's, to pick some flowers and complete some of the sowing work Esme had charged them with. It had become some of a habit of theirs, the late autumn sun offering more warmth than the thick, cold stone walls of the house and the privacy offering them the chance to speak at ease without being overheard by servants or family members.

"Do you not sometimes miss life at the castle?" Alice wondered as they spread out the old horse blanket that was to protect their clothes from getting dirty. "Our life must be very dull and penurious compared to it."

"Not at all," Isabella chuckled, pulling a face as she produced her tabouret from the basket. If there was anything she'd hoped would not transfer from her old life to her new, it was the expectancy that all womenfolk would happily spent their free time stitching or embroidering.

"But you were a princess!" Alice, who still had a very romantic idea of courtly life, cried.

"Aye, but a princess in chains!" Isabella laughed, tossing her embroidery aside as she lay down on the blanket, her eyes closed against the afternoon sun. "Believe me, anyone who has lived the life I had would not miss it for the world!"

Alice, more apt at fancywork than her new friend, picked up the embroidery frame, her small, nimble fingers setting to work as she contemplated Isabella's words. "Were you very unhappy?"

Isabella shrugged, picking a daisy from the grass and proceeding to methodically rid the flower of its petals. "I wasn't unhappy per se," she finally spoke. "Angela, my former nursemaid and companion, made sure that my life was as happy as it could be. However, knowing your days are numbers and swiftly dwindling in stock does put a strain on your everyday life."

"I can very well imagine!' Alice muttered. "Do you ever wonder what became of your maid?"

"Every day," Isabella sighed, the fate of poor Angela oft weighing on her mind as she lay in the bed she shared with Alice. The darkness and silence her only companions as she cried her silent tears. "Part of me hopes that she managed to escape the castle in time but…." Her voice trailed off, overcome with emotion as she squeezed her eyes shut against the onset of tears.

"It may not have come to that," Alice's soft voice spoke as she set her needlework down to enclose her fried in a firm, loving hug. "As you said: she may have gotten away in time."

"I hope she did," Isabella replied, her voice shaky with tears, "because I know very well that Victoria will stop at nothing to secure her throne. Not even the killing of innocent women."

"She will be stopped," Alice spoke confidently. It was a certainty she knew in her heart, having seen it, like so many other events that had later rung true, in her dreams.

"But at what cost?" Isabella whispered, the horrible thought of many brave men losing their lives in battle chilling her bone. It was true that they would give their lives for the very best of causes, but at the end of the day no good cause could ever diminish the pain a family felt at losing a loved one.

Would she feel that pain? The thought alone of losing Edward was enough to keep her awake for many a night. She knew she had no right or claim over him other than the fact that he was a knight fighting for her birthright, but no amount of reason could silence her heart in these matters. And her heart appeared to no longer belong to herself. It beat only for him; in love, gratitude and a never ceasing, all-encompassing fear for the danger she had brought him in.

"Let us not dwell on things that have not even come to pass," she spoke, banishing her dark thoughts from her mind. It was all she could do in order to function.

"Indeed! Let us focus on merrier things," Alice readily agreed, picking up the embroidery frame again. "What did you make of our Michaelmas celebrations?"

"The procession was very fine," Isabella remarked, "though it didn't escape my notice that your father appeared unhappy with the prominent role the Tyler's played in the celebrations."

Alice nodded. "The Tyler's are generally disliked around the estate but their money has made many a man dependant on them and unfortunately there's nothing my father can do about them shy of violating the laws of custom and banishing them from his land."

_As does the court, so does the country_, Isabella thought, the realization saddening her to no end. Still, she chose not to dwell on it, instead forcing the smile back on her face as she spoke again. "I also noticed how you could not keep your eyes off young master Whitlock!" she teased, giggling when Alice's cheeks blushed a vibrant scarlet. "Nor could he, I might add!"

"Do you think we were too obvious?" Alice whispered, her eyes flittering from Isabella to the manor house. "Mother and Rosalie are forever berating me for my very apparent preference."

Isabella shrugged. "I don't see the harm in it. The two of you are as good as betrothed to one another, aren't you?" The betrothal of young Lord Whitlock and Alice had been a long standing agreement between both families and even though Jasper's parents passed before a marriage contract could be agreed upon, it was no secret that a marriage between the two would happen sooner rather than later.

"I cannot understand why father is still so adamant about waiting," Alice grumped. "I am already fourteen and ripe for marriage and Jasper is even older than I am! Why should we wait when we both desire nothing else but to be wed?"

"You are still so young, Alice," Isabella sighed, still trying to set her reluctant fingers to their task. "You have years of being a wife ahead of you. Why not enjoy your freedom while it lasts?"

"Psah!" Alice huffed. "Don't tell me you haven't contemplated the idea of having my brother for a bedfellow!"

"Alice, for shame!" Isabella gasped, her cheeks staining the deepest of red. "Where in heaven's name did you ever get such an idea?"

"From you, dear sister!" Alice giggled, enjoying the effect her words were having on the young woman who had swiftly become her best friend and confidante. "You have a habit of speaking in your dreams, though in truth there's only one word – or name – that falls from your lips."

"I-I," Isabella stammered, not knowing what to do with the situation.

"Don't fret," Alice assured her, taking her hand off her handiwork to place it on top of Isabella's. "It was all in good sport. I will no longer tease you about it, if it makes you feel uncomfortable."

Isabella nodded, her cheeks slowly returning to their usual color as both girls went back to what they were doing before; Isabella trying not to let her mind dwell too much on Edward as she picked and dissected wildflowers and Alice grinning as she stole sideways glances at her friend, her fingers flying over her tabouret.

Some time had passed when suddenly Isabella's musings were interrupted by a loud gasp, soon followed by Alice screaming the name of the man who had been constantly on her mind. At first she thought nothing of it, figuring this was Alice's way of drawing her out into another round of teasing, but when the younger girl jumped to her feet and started taking off in a mad dash across the field, Isabella too let her eyes wander to the spot where the forest blended into meadowland.

"Edward." His name fell from her lips almost as if in prayer, her hand pressed against her fast beating heart as she spotted a rider bearing the unmistakable Cullen crest.

"Isabella." She could see his lips forming her name even when she didn't hear it as the rider approached, her heart beating so fast now that she was afraid it was going to flutter out of her chest and drift towards him as she stood, rooted to the spot. Alice, wedged before her brother in the saddle bearing a grin that could light up the sky as she took in both lovers reactions to Edwards return. For there was no doubt in her mind that those two were very much in love, even if they were both too stubborn to admit to it.

"I'll let mother know you're here," Alice announced, lithely hopping down from the horse as she took off, setting her pace as slow as she could get. She knew, or at least assume, that Isabella and her brother would more than appreciate a few moments of privacy.

"You are really here," Bella muttered, unable to believe her eyes. "Are you hurt?" Her eyes conveyed the worry she felt as she scanned him for signs of maltreatment. "Did Victoria hurt you?"

"No," Edward shook his head, her obvious concern for his wellbeing endearing her even more to him, though he didn't dare think of what it meant. "Though it's not for lack of trying on her part. I am here to get you to safety."

"Safety?" Isabella's brows furrowed as she tried to process what Edward had said. "But I thought I was safe here?"

"And you were, until yesterday." Edward sighed, trying to rub the fatigue of many anxious miles traveled to secure Isabella's future out of his face as he explained the change of situation. "I am afraid it is my fault you are in this position," he finished, "for Jane has long held hopes that one day she might follow into Rosalie's footsteps and marry one of her squire's sons."

"You think she betrayed me out of jealousy?" Isabella asked, the idea of Jane Tyler and Edward together revolting her almost to the point of nausea.

"Jealousy or gain," Edward shrugged, "it does not matter, really, why she did it. All that matters is that now Victoria is mastering her army to attack Cullen manor and all those who dwell in it."

"What is going to happen?" Isabella's eyes were wide with fear at the prospect of waging open warfare against her stepmother. "Do you mean for me to fight?" She'd heard of ancient queens leading their armies into warfare but to be honest, she didn't have the slightest notion of how to do so. She was no Boudicca, though she'd spent many a night reading about the warrior queen's actions.

"No." Edward smiled, both impressed and amused by the lady's fighting spirit. "The resistance will escort you safely to Denali whilst others are already hard at work spreading the truth about your survival and Victoria's evil. They will rally the people in the hopes they will stand with us when it comes to war."

Isabella bit her lip to stop it from trembling. _War_. She had known it would someday come to that but the thought of Edward again in so much danger made her almost mad with fear. "You are certain it will come to that?"

Edward nodded. "Absolutely. It is not a question now of 'if' but 'when' and 'where'. We hope that by being one step ahead of her, we can decide where we will make our stand."

"You speak of war as if it were a trivial matter," Isabella muttered, "as if it doesn't mean that many men's lives will be in danger…including yours."

Edward closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, wanting to calm himself before he spoke. "It was not my intention to make light of it but you have to understand, Isabella, that sometimes warfare is the only option left to bring about a change."

"And I am just to sit back and tend to my embroidery while you put your life on the line?" Isabella cried out, her anguish clear in both her voice and her big, expressive eyes. "I could not bear it if anything happened to you."

Her passionate declaration snapped the lock his gentlemanly restrained held on his own, very strong, feelings and before he knew it, his lips were pressed against Isabella's, her surprised gasp giving him free access to her hot, welcoming mouth as he kissed her with abandon. And she kissed him back.

Isabella had long wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by a man and what, in return, the man kissing her would expect from her. It was therefore, with no small amount of shock that she found out that kissing Edward, like breathing or thinking, came as natural to her as if meant to be, her hands locking into the hair at the base of his neck as her tongue caressed his and got caressed in return.

For a few moments, the outside world and all the fears and dangers it held ceased to exist as Isabella and Edward gave themselves over completely to the bliss they felt at being together, united, but then a low moan of pleasure slipping from Edward's lips broke the spell and as they opposite each other, panting for breath, awkwardness and confusion settled in.

"I-I am sorry," Edward stuttered, still trying to catch his breath. "I have compromised your virtue and I…I meant not to do it."

"You…you regret it?" Isabella's heart shattered into a million little pieces at the sound of his muttered apology. "You….you did not want-"

"I want you." There was no denying the truth in his voice, his desperate need for her speaking out of every syllable as he looked at her, willing her to understand. "I have wanted you from the first moment I've set eyes on you but you're not for me. I am not worthy."

"You are willing to give your life in order to protect me!" Isabella cried, her voice full of the despair she felt. "How does that make you unworthy of my love?"

"You will be queen," Edward muttered, his hands trembling around Isabella's flushed cheeks. "You should marry a man of power."

"I do not care for a man who would only marry me to be king!" Isabella vehemently replied. "I want a man who will love me for who I am, not for what I can make him into. I do not want to marry some stranger just for appearances sake, I want to marry the man I love."

"Then marry me," Edward's voice was husky with want, his green eyes blazing vibrantly into hers, "because I love you more than I have words to describe."

The trampling of many horses hoofs disturbed their moment as the vanguard of the rebel army emerged from the forest, cutting short any celebration of the new understanding that had formed between them. "Let us go inside to meet with my family and make ready for the journey ahead," Edward offered, lacing his fingers through hers, "I am sure they will be very happy to learn of our news."

Isabella blushed, feeling happier in that moment than she ever had in her life.

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_**Thoughts?**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama**_

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_**~ Ten ~**_

It was with great happiness that the family received the news of Edward and Isabella's engagement, his worries about not being good enough for the woman who, if all went as planned, would soon be his queen, obviously not shared even by his kin.

Peter of Locksley and his men shared eagerly in the celebrations, and the veritable feast Esme managed to conjure up that night, the genuine love and happiness in both Isabella and Edward as they toasted to their future happiness expelling all remaining doubts they might have had about Edward's dedication to the cause. No, it was very apparent in both word and gesture that no man could be more dedicated to both the cause and the princess as young Edward Cullen.

However, as happy as the night had been, the next day found everyone in the saddle, riding out at dawn and crossing the border between Forks and Denali well before midday and long before even the vanguard of Victoria's hastily assembled army could reach them.

"Are we sure the kingdom of Denali will offer us sanctuary?" Isabella, riding with Esme as the men discussed tactics behind them. "I know they have long been friends to my family but in this they are taking a mighty risk."

Esme chuckled, reaching out her hand to fold it around Isabella's as it held tight to the reigns. "It is, but it is one they will be most willing to take, both for the sake of alliances as for the sake of family."

Her laughter deepened when she noticed Isabella's look of confusion. "Did Edward not tell you about his heritage?"

Isabella shook her head, stealthily sneaking a backwards glance at Edward. Who was deeply immersed in conversation with his father and Lord Locksley. "I am afraid not."

"I was born in Denali," Esme spoke, "in fact: I was born the bastard daughter – and one of many, I might add – to the king."

"Ah!" Isabella muttered, trying to mask her shock by patting her horse on the neck. "I think things are starting to make sense now."

"Yes," Esme chuckled. "So you see: if the king will not help the rebels for who you are, he will certainly protect my interests," she glanced pointedly behind her where her son was still discussing strategy, "or the interests of my family."

The warm welcome the resistance and it leaders received at the royal court of Denali soon confirmed Esme's statements, the king himself emerging into the courtyard to greet his daughter, her family and the princess he had long wished to meet.

"I can see very much of your father in you," King Gareth of Denali mused, studying young Isabella's face.

"You…you knew my father?" Isabella stammered, leaning into Edward's strong hold for support.

The king nodded. "I knew him very well. And your mother too."

Isabella gasped, tears rolling freely down her cheeks as she looked at the man she could no longer call a stranger. "Will you tell me about them?"

"Of course," the king smiled, offering her his hand and noting with happiness how Edward still retained his hold of the other as he led them into his keep. It would be good to see this young girl on the throne of Forks but it would be even better to have his own grandson beside her as her consort. "But first, tell me all about your plans to dethrone that evil bitch."

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_**Thoughts?**_

_**First of two updates for today. **_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama**_

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_**~ Eleven ~**_

Isabella soon found that the Denali court, like Cullen Manor, held many things for her to learn. The king, knowing the young girl needed as much diversion from what was about to pass on the other side of the border as he could offer, took great pains to initiate her into the matters of state and the fine art of handling the barons and seeing to it that they were happy yet still doing right by their tenants.

"You will be the queen of all your subjects, not just the rich and powerful ones," he warned her, though he already knew Isabella to be a fair judge by nature.

Isabella's head was spinning, part of her mind ever in turmoil for the well-being of Edward and the many other men fighting on her behalf, while the rest tried to hold on to as much as she could of Gareth's teachings. "How do you find the balance?" she wondered aloud. "It seems to me to be an impossible undertaking."

"It's difficult," Gareth nodded, "but I wouldn't say impossible. I would advise you to be cautious and bear in mind that, in the first years of your reign, there will come many occasions in which you feel like you've failed. The trick is, though, to never show it. Always remain aware of the fact that _you_ are their queen and _your_ will is law."

"Even if I'm wrong?" Isabella frowned. It didn't appear to be just to not admit it if she had erred in judgment.

"_Especially_ when you're wrong," Gareth nodded. "For some of your nobles will take your indecisiveness and insecurity and twist it around until they have grounds for revolt."

Isabella sighed. "It feels like there's little I can do without stepping on people's toes. It almost makes me long for the solitude and protection of my imprisonment."

"I did not mean to scare you, milady," Gareth smiled, "but I did want to make you aware that the business of ruling a country is no trivial matter. Still, God has not called us to our office for nothing. We are the custodians He chose to look after His creation. Never forget that."

He smiled, both of them looking out across the fields and forests of the borderland. "Furthermore, you will have an excellent husband beside you to aide you in all matters of state and defend your rights against all those who dare challenge them."

Isabella smiled, her mind immediately drifting towards Edward and what he may be doing at that moment. Over the days, many messengers had come, reporting on the progress of the rebel army and it's massively growing numbers. It appeared that, as the message of Isabella's survival got out, the majority of the people of Forks picked her side, forcing Victoria to eventually relinquish the castle and the capitol and retreat with her own army to the borderland between Forks and Volturi, her motherland.

"Do you believe Victoria will retreat across the border without doing battle?" she asked, wringing her hands in her lap.

"For your sake, I hope not," Gareth answered, smiling tightly. " If Victoria manages to escape the country alive, she will remain a living focus for all those who might oppose you and with the backing of her family….." Gareth shook his head as he let his voice trail off. "Who knows what evil she might concoct."

"So it will have to come to war," Isabella sighed, her heart once again galloping with fear. "It will have to come to killing."

"As a queen, you sometimes have to resort to evil ways to achieve the greater good," Gareth nodded, feeling a small pang of sadness for the hard lessons of rulership this kind, sweet soul next to him would soon have to learn. "Do you have it in you to send a man to his death in order to protect your people from all the evil he might expose them to? For if you want to do justice to them and be a fair ruler to your subjects, I fear you will have to."

Isabella nodded, averting her eyes to her lap. She knew she had to. From what she'd read in all those ancient, courtly tales, she knew that being a queen meant passing judgment and locking all parts of you away that would impede her queenly state. "You are right," she finally spoke, forcing her eyes back up to meet the king's, "I will have to harden myself."

"A ruler always has two faces: the one he will show his subjects, and the one reserved for his family," Gareth nodded, feeling his heart swell with pride for this young girl. "I know it may seem like a daunting task right now but I know you have it in you to be the queen your people deserve. You have much of your father in you, Isabella, and with some time and experience you will be everything he was and more. If he were here now, he would be bursting with pride, seeing his little girl all grown up and ready to assume the place she was born to take up. _Both_ your parents would be."

"I hope so," Isabella muttered, stepping away from the window as her mind became lost in thoughts of Edward, her parents and the immense task that lay ahead of her. _If_ they managed to succeed.

The next few days passed in a similar fashion, the court assembled in the great hall with the refugees from Forks mingling in with the Denalians as they anxiously awaited news of the exploits of their husbands father's and brothers. Until finally, after many hours of fearful anticipation, a panting and travel worn express messenger bearing the white swan symbol adopted by the resistance was finally led into the king's great hall.

Isabella gasped, her hand going out to grab Alice's as the two friends were seated together on the left hand of the king, surrounded by many other of the refugee women.

"Give the man some wine!" Gareth immediately ordered, a servant immediately rushing towards the courier with a goblet of wine. "What news bring you to our court?"

"Yesterday, our troops finally managed to trick Victoria into open battle near the Volturi border, sire," the man panted, drawing a few gulps of wine from his cup. "We managed to take the victory from the field but at a great cause as many good men were slain….."

He paused again, his chest heaving as a tense silence fell over the room, the woman sending desperate pleas for their husbands' safe delivery from the battlefield up to the heavens as they waited with baited breath for the man to proceed. "I am afraid to announced that both the Lord of Locksley and Lord Black have fallen-" A loud, piercing wail echoed through the room as Charlotte Locksley fell to the floor, her ladies immediately rushing to her aid.

"What of the usurper?" Gareth demanded, Isabella's throat too locked with fear to speak.

"She got away," the courier answered, "but her man, James, was slain by the hands of young Whitlock." Alice let out a surprised gasp, her hand squeezing Isabella's as they continued to listen to the man's account. "The army is currently giving chase to Victoria and what is left of her troops. They have good hope of engaging her in a final battle within the next day or so."

"And…and what of lord Edward Cullen?" Isabella, finally managing to find her voice, asked. "Is he well?"

"As well as I could see, milady," the courier replied. "After Lord Peter fell, the army chose him to lead them into the final battle."

Isabella nodded, slightly disappointed at not receiving a personal word from her beloved but knowing that the public place they were both in and the demanding task of leading an army into battle offered no repose for suitors. "Assure him of my unyielding support and affection," she therefore spoke, knowing that Edward would read the love she could not openly declare in her words.

Gareth nodded, already noticing the incredible progress his young ward had made in assuming a queenly attitude. "Is there anything the army needs or lacks at the moment?"

"We are well," the courier assured him, "though maybe a little short on arrows after our latest battle."

"Then pray, take as many as you can carry on your way back," Gareth smiled, signaling for one of his soldiers to come forward. "My armory is at your disposal."

The courier took his leave then, he and his escort laden with arrows and other supplies as they cantered across the drawbridge; back into battle.

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_**Thoughs?**_

_**The end is nigh (though not in a Mayan prophesy kind of way...at least, I hope not.)**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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_**Beta'ed by Jadsmama**_

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_**~ Twelve ~**_

For the women, there was nothing to do but go back to waiting and praying; the dreary monotony of life at a foreign court setting back in after the courier's departure. It wasn't until early morning on the fourth day after the messenger had left, that the sounding of many hoofs cantering across the drawbridge heralded the arrival of news from the frontline.

"Sire." A soldier barged into the king's hall, his eyes wide. "I think you'd better see this."

Gareth frowned, a meaningful look passing between him and his queen before he rose from his seat of honor and slowly but steadily walked out towards the window. His eyes went wide, a broad smile appearing on his lips as he looked down onto his courtyard. "Princess….ladies of Forks," he spoke, his voice steady yet excited. "I believe you'd better prepare yourself for your men have returned."

Alice let out a high-pitched squeak, her fast legs carrying her to the window in a sprint before anyone could say something to stop her. "I can see them!" she panted, her eyes wide with excitement. "There are so many I can scare make out one face for another!"

"Milady," the king spoke, holding his hand out towards Isabella, "may I have the great honor of escorting you into the courtyard? I have a feeling your army has some very happy news to deliver."

Isabella swallowed, overcome by so many emotions that she barely even knew what to think. The war was over, that much had become clear to her by the arrival of her army, but what had been the outcome. And, more importantly, had Edward survived? "The honor will be mine," she replied with her trembling voice, her hand shaking like a leaf as she placed it in Gareth's.

"You are doing great," Gareth, whispering as he leaned into her, spoke. He felt just how high strung the princess was at the moment and if what he thought would happen was going to happen, he wanted the young girl to enjoy her moment without worry. "Let us meet your people."

The rest of the ladies crowded behind them, speaking in hushed, anxious voices as they descended the stairs into the courtyard, where the rebel army had now stationed itself around its leader.

_Edward_. Isabella's heart danced in her chest as soon as she set eyes on him, his face looking battle worn and tired but showing no signs of injury as he stepped out of the ranks. "Our country has long lived under the oppressing rule of a vile usurper but yesterday, on the banks of the river Bogachiel, Victoria's reign came to an end."

He paused, his eyes scorching jubilantly into Isabella's as he drew in a few deep breaths. "The queen is dead!" he announced, his clear, passionate voice ringing out across the courtyard. "Long live Isabella, queen of Forks!"

The might cheer that erupted shook the castle on its base, the women rushing out to greet their men as Edward and Isabella remained frozen in place, the world around them ceasing to exist as they stared at one another, their eyes conveying everything no words could ever express.

They knew that in Victoria's demise, their future had been forged. Soon there would be a coronation and a wedding and, if God blessed them, children to take over when the time would come, but in that moment, they were perfectly content to just be alive and be together, knowing no force on earth could ever drive them apart again.

After all their trials and tribulations, they would now live happily ever after.

**The end****.**

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_**Thank you for reading. **_


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